


Nessie Learns Reaction Engineering

by tipplerdoeswords



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, i can confirm this is the most boring thing i've ever written, i've failed my one job, mostly just caustic character building and it's not even funny, read if you dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23707087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tipplerdoeswords/pseuds/tipplerdoeswords
Summary: Caustic talks to Nessie while he works out some equations.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	Nessie Learns Reaction Engineering

“I am developing a new chemical blend, which requires components I must make in house. This is a multi-step reaction and there are many variables we must design for, Nessie.”

Alexander Nox peered over his miniature whiteboard to make sure that Nessie was paying attention. The doll stared at him from its perch on a stack of secondhand college textbooks. He could access everything digitally, of course, but these old books had his handwritten notes crammed into the margins and were easier on his eyes than the glow of the screen. From this angle, on its perch of yellowed paper, Nessie almost looked interested.

He had found the soft green stuffed animal on a cliff in King’s Canyon at the beginning of the season. Its blank eyes and benign appearance made it his preferred companion when he had to work out a new reaction process. Natalie was always happy to check his algebra, but she wasn’t familiar with the chemical engineering side of things and the time it took to explain everything to her was more than he had between game prep and recovering after each round.

“Of greatest importance is safety, then speed and cost. I would like to have this ready within a month, but knowing the constant interruptions I endure, that estimate is optimistic. The reactants are cheap, at least, and once I complete this analysis I will order them.”

He drew a sketch of a tank with the symbol of a mechanical stirrer inside and began writing a series of reaction steps to the left.

“One of these steps in the catalysis reaction is limiting, and I have been unable to find literature saying which step it is, unfortunately. I will write out the equations for the three possible cases.”

The squeak of the marker on the board stopped as Caustic looked at Nessie again. The stitches along its mouth were neat and artificial and it continued to gaze outward at the lab.

Caustic gave a small cough into his shoulder.

“I’m getting ahead of myself. I should start with the assumptions, which will lead to inaccuracies, but since this is merely the theoretical portion, there is no harm done.”

He sat back in his swivel chair, careful to avoid sliding across the tile, and resumed writing.

The other legends had invited him to game night that evening only for Caustic to decline, per usual. If he listened very hard, with ears partially damaged by repeated exposure to gun shots, he could hear the music being played across the residential building.

It was never completely quiet in his lab. The various equipment and machinery droned, whirred, and dripped while his own heavy footsteps and occasional cough added the only human touch the space required. 

All he needed right now was to derive some frustratingly complicated rate equations without dropping a variable or flipping a sign by accident. Caustic tried to explain to Nessie what he was writing.

“Here we have the adsorption step, where the reactant binds with an active site on the alumina catalyst. Since this is in the gas phase we can use partial pressures, but I will continue with concentrations until I need to convert the units.”

He turned the whiteboard around to show Nessie a drawing of a circular particle following an arrow to a ‘u’ shaped binding site.

“Since we’ve assumed that the binding reaction is reversible, there is an equilibrium equation that shows the relationship between the desired product and reactants.”

Caustic had never actually taken a reaction engineering course during college, not even during his graduate years. The book he had found was relatively easy to understand, but teaching oneself a new subject was always difficult.

“Now the algebra arrives. The concentration of the substrate reactant compound cannot be measured, so we must use the equilibrium equations of the catalyst reaction and desorption steps to substitute in for our unknown values.”

He wrote smaller to fit into the rapidly dwindling space at the bottom of the whiteboard.

“Each step has an equilibrium equation, with its own numerous unknowns. I won’t bother you with the details.”

The top of the whiteboard bumped against the stack of books on his desk. Nessie was unmoved by the display of clumsiness.

Caustic worked in silence for the next few minutes, occasionally erasing a portion of the whiteboard to make room. After a deep breath, he stuck the marker behind his ear and showed Nessie his work.

“Now this final equation has variables we could conceivably measure. I _will_ have to measure most of them, which will take a good deal of precious time. Another side effect of lacking the necessary research papers.”

He craned his neck around the whiteboard to squint at his own work.

“Any mistakes? If not I will write down the final equation in my notebook.”

Caustic looked through his jagged script once more then reached for the worn journal on his desk and balanced it on one knee. The music in the distance was a little louder, with a deeper bass undertone that he could feel through the walls. Another game night lost to a certain legend’s corrupting influence.

He erased the board and began the entire process again with the other steps. As he worked, his head started to ache slightly whether from trying to keep track of all the infernal equilibrium constants or the slow onset of dehydration.

Nessie had a stain on her back from the blood that had leaked through his coat after he was shot in the chest with a Wingman. The bullet had missed the stuffed animal, thankfully, and a generous scrub with the glassware cleaning powder he kept by the sink had bleached out most of the brown color. 

There might be piles of Nessie’s placed around King’s Canyon, but this one was his. It had done a fine job of listening to him drone on about catalyst mechanics and was probably more educated than any other Nessie on the planet.

He was getting distracted and the pulsing of his head was starting to match the rhythm of the dance music. Caustic finished off the last equation, transferred the notes to his journal, and leaned back with a sigh.


End file.
